Page 61 of Elven Throne

Then Rebecca might have just lost, forever, the Maxwell Hannigan she knew.

The Maxwell sheneeded.

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Rebecca’sunyieldingfurydroveher harder and faster toward those trees, and she ignored everything else.

The painful tip of a stick or edge of a hidden rock beneath her bare feet. The heavy, burning weight of rage in her core, fueling her forward.

The feeling of Maxwell close behind, constantly tugging her back in his direction, as if walking away without him threatened everything.

Both simultaneous sensations were impossible to ignore, warring with each other through her body.

She fought them both.

And she didn’t stop until she’d marched well into the thick woods along the river, her footsteps heavy and noisy, even with the constant rush of the river, the ceaselessly droning cicadas, and the rustle of her own bare feet through the underbrush, while branches snagged at the edges of Titus’s overlarge jacket she still hadn’t had the chance to replace.

When it felt like she’d gone far enough and gotten a better hold on her anger to lower the risk of doing something completely stupid because of it, she stopped and waited for the shifter to catch up.

Maxwell moved like a ghost through the woods, hardly making any noise himself. He stopped several yards away from her—another unusual response—and swept his gaze across the expansive trees hanging over them. The leaves fluttered and glinted with reflected afternoon sunlight through the canopy.

“What is this about?” he grumbled, as if he’d been pulled away from a critically important activity just to humor her here. “We’re here. Now you’ve seen the woods—”

“You!” Rebecca whirled on him again, seething. “This is aboutyou.And them. And all that…I don’t even knowwhatthat was back there. How they’re treating you. I don’t give a shit if it’s what everyone expects of me. I willnotjust sit there and watch it happening, and I won’t let itkeephappening.”

He took two steps closer and paused, the pain of defeat etched across his face. “There is nothing you can do.”

“That is such bullshit! Maybe there’s nothing you can do, or that’s just what you’ve convinced yourself of, butpacklawhas nothing to do with me. I don’t care what that bitch says… What? What are you laughing at?”

If anything in the world could make her angrier than she already was, it was probably this.

Maxwell wasn’t so much laughing as visibly fighting the smile flickering across his lips before finally answering her. “She would find it amusing to hear you call her that.”

Rebecca’s jaw dropped as she gaped at him, completely caught off guard by that unexpected deflection. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.” His subdued smile disappeared as he dipped his head. “Though I recommend calling her Annie to her face.”

She blinked, stunned by his inability—or willing refusal—to acknowledge what actually mattered here. What she was actually trying to say.

A bitter laugh barked out of her. “Jesus Christ, I didn’t bring you out here to talk about Annie, no matter what we’re calling her or anyone else.”

“I know.”

The hint of certainty returning to his voice with those two simple words hurt almost as much as hearing him speak without it.

Then Rebecca realized how close he was again, still walking toward her, soft footsteps moving soundlessly across the thick, lushly green underbrush still damp beneath no lasting shade.

“I know,” he repeated, stopping inches away, reaching toward her as if trying to pull her in.

Rebecca slapped his hands away and stepped back, still fuming. “I’m not convinced.”

Holding her gaze, trapping her again in the quickening pulse of their silver glow, Maxwell took another step, making retreat practically impossible.

But he didn’t try to touch her again.

“Iknow,” he murmured. “You brought me out here forme. I know we’re here now, alone. And I know I would not have left the yard to find more peaceful solitude in the woods on my own.”

“Why not?” she shouted. “Some stupid fucking rule says you have to sit there and take it while they treat you like that? It’snotright, and I have no fucking idea how you can still be so—”

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